The Afterlove
by zevie
Summary: Oneshot epilogue to Happy Birthday Dallas. Reading that is not a necessity to understand this fic, but it would help. Tim Shepard's POV. Rated for swearing, sex and sap.


The Afterlove

A/N: I hate the title. Oh, well.

This is a very, very quick one-shot epilogue to my other fic Happy Birthday Dallas. I don't think it's much of a spoiler, so don't feel pressured to read that fic. Oh, wait... Do feel pressured! Go read it! Whatever, lol.

I still maintain that the way I ended it was how it should be - my sense of realism wouldn't really allow for much else. This epilogue potentially takes away any power in that, which is why it's posted separately. I wasn't going to post it at all, but the way I left it depressed me so much I had to write this, and since I pissed off people with that ending I decided to edit and post, lol. Plus, I miss the damn fic. -sad face-

One of these days, I will have to write a realistic slash story with these two, lol. Now, however, I reserve the right to be a sappy, disgustingly-fluffy, post-trauma fic writer. This is gross and unrealistic. Meh.

Rated T, so sorry guys, no lemon. _Tasteful fade to black..._

Disclaimer: These boys are a strictly a loaner, from the imitable S.E. Hinton. May she write another novel soon.

xxxx

Tim drummed his fingers anxiously against the dashboard. He'd wanted to drive - oh, how he craved the freedom after two months in jail. But, Curly had sulked. He'd gone and driven an hour out of Tulsa to pick Tim up, why couldn't he drive back? Tim had had enough of temper tantrums. He let Curly drive. He needed the practice anyway.

They pulled up in front of the house, Curly paralleling perfectly. Tim grinned. He'd grow out of it.

"You sure you don't wanna head straight to Buck's?" Curly turned his blue eyes on his brother. "The boys'll be wanting to catch you up. Hell, I woulda thought you'd be desperate for news." He smirked. "And desperate for other stuff you find at Buck's."

Tim grimaced at the joke. Curly's fifteenth was just around the corner; Tim still wasn't used to hearing his kid brother moan on about girls and mean it.

"Tell 'em I'll be there around eight. Bob working out okay?"

"Better than anyone else," Curly said grudgingly. He hadn't gotten over the promotion of the "new guy" to Tim's right hand man. It wasn't time for Curly to be second to Tim - it wasn't anywhere _near_ time in Tim's opinion. "He keeps things running smooth."

Tim nodded. "Good deal." He paused, then reached over and tousled Curly's hair.

"See ya in an hour."

Curly scowled at Tim's sudden burst of affection. "Messed up my hair, man."

Tim opened the car door and stretched, breathing deeply. The cool November air felt good in his lungs, forcing out the stale smell of too many men and too little space. He loped up the stairs, stifling the urge to run.

No one was home and he was glad. He'd heard enough fights to last him a lifetime. According to Curly, his mother had been worried for a half a day when they'd picked him up - he had turned eighteen in the middle of the stint and they went ahead and sent him to a real prison instead of juvie. But, the concern couldn't have lasted. Tim hadn't heard a word from her, though Curly had visited him twice and Angela had written him pages-long, scrawly letters that he'd devoured like a starving man drinks water. They had been the most interesting part of each week, in spite of the ramblings about boys and bitchy girls and that evil Dallas Winston. Tim wasn't worried about Angela. He knew she gave Dally hell.

He trotted up the stairs and paused at Angela's room. It was a mess that he wouldn't dare wade through, but it smelled slightly like her perfume. He half wished she was home, just so he could bug her. Tim wouldn't have let her come within ten miles of McAlester though she'd wanted to. He didn't need that kind of stress just so he could hear her whining. He missed her something fierce though.

Curly too, if he was honest. The two times Curly had visited him, ashen-faced in the dim light, he'd almost broken down and hugged the kid. Curly had looked so shaken, glaring at the cops and shuddering at Tim's hints. Curly had been there chain-smoking when he'd gotten out and had given a yelp like an excited pup when Tim had ambled out into the open.

Tim smiled ruefully, passing his brother's door. The smell emanating from Curly's little cubby was a sharp contrast to Angela's room. It felt so good to be home.

He _was_ desperate for the real news, and truthfully wouldn't have said no to most girls either, at that moment. He was looking forward to Buck's. But, he wanted to take things slow. Hit everything that he missed in succession and end with a bang. Start with a shower - a nice, long, _private_ shower. Put on some clean clothes. Eat something decent, for a change.

The shower felt delicious - he stood under the water for a good twenty minutes, and would have stood there longer if it hadn't suddenly run cold. The water heater tended to break down at the first sign of frost.

He walked back to his room naked, and left the door open while he dried himself, relishing the privacy of an empty house. The lights were out, and he left it like that. The soft street light coming in through his windows was more than enough after two months of twenty-four-hour florescent lighting.

Tim cast a fond look at his bed before pulling out some clean clothes. He'd get a good night's sleep tonight. His days of sleeping with one eye cracked were over. He didn't plan to fuck up again.

He had to admit that it wasn't the smartest plan to try and feed a speed to a horse. Luckily for the horse, and for Winston who was riding, and unluckily for Tim, he'd been caught tampering, with a good stash of the drug in his car. He'd been careless. He'd been sidetracked, he thought, frowning, remembering the way Dallas had streaked across the track. He'd have never have left that much evidence in such an easily accessible place if he hadn't been watching the blond. Tim shook his head clear of the memory. He should have known better than to try and work with such a really _good _distraction around.

At least it hadn't been that much shit - a good portion of his stash had been moved to Donny's car, along with a chunk that Donny certainly hadn't bought himself. Tim grinned. He knew how his stash had gotten there, but the mysterious pound of meth that had appeared there had been a beautiful surprise. He didn't know for sure, but he thought he had a pretty good idea which towheaded, blue-eyed devil he had to thank for that. That Pinter mother-fucker was now out of his way, stuck in reform school for the next half a year. But, Tim had paid the price for that ten-times over.

The front door slammed, making the house rattle and a second later he heard footsteps stumble up the steep stairs at a frenetic rate. Must be Angela, he thought, and quickly pulled on the jeans. He checked the clock - 7:33.

The door to his bedroom shut quickly behind him. He barely heard the sound of the latch being snapped shut over the heavy gasps.

"You're home." Breathy-voiced and ecstatic.

Tim grinned and toweled his head. "Yup," he said happily. "Bet you're glad to see me, huh? Miss me, honey?"

Curses followed. "You're fucking right I did. Leave it to you to get picked up on the twenty-ninth when we're supposed to meet on the thirtieth."

Tim shrugged. "I only take up a day a month of your time. I'm sure you kept yourself busy. Got yourself a boyfriend?"

"Yeah. That's right. He's the fucking love of my life." The bedsprings creaked.

"Love, huh?" Tim chuckled and sat down, too. Always with the dramatics, this one. He leaned on his side and closed his eyes for the kiss.

"Yeah," Dallas said, pulling back. His blue-eyes burned bright with anticipation. "Good thing for him, too. The idiot landed himself in jail, lost my respect."

"He deserves your respect and then some what with the shit he's been through," Tim growled.

Dally smirked. "He can have whatever he want."

Tim squirmed. "How'd you find out I'm home?" he asked, trying to distract himself.

Dally, never one to be coy, ran his hands up Tim's leg. "Curly told me. Always liked that brother a yours."

Tim licked his lips and swallowed. "We're not supposed to meet for a week, Dallas. Those are the rules."

Dally snorted. "Fuck the rules." He unzipped Tim's pants.

Tim grabbed his hands. "In a hurry, huh?" he gasped.

Dally raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"

Tim groaned. "Hell yes," he said faintly.

Dally grinned and straddled him. "I need my monthly fucks, Shep, and you've missed two of them. You owe me. Twice, right now."

Tim groaned and cast a quick look to the clock. "I gotta be at Buck's in twenty minutes," he panted.

Dally laughed. "Make that three times."

xxxx

Tim lay flat on his back, and lazily watched the smoke curl from Dally's cigarette. The clock read 8:07. He did not care. "Nicely done, Winston."

Dally shrugged modestly. "Learned a thing or two from Sylvia about patience."

Tim shifted. "You still going with her?"

"Not since last week. Fucking bitch run out on me again, and I wasn't even locked up this time." Dally took a harsh drag off of his cigarette. "Sleeps around too much for my liking."

Tim laughed. "Ain't that the pot calling the kettle a whore."

Dally shoved Tim and blew smoke through his laughter. "Shut up."

"So, it's just me right now?" Tim murmured.

"Yeah..." He looked at Tim. "Might try topping someone one of these days though," he said casually.

Tim swallowed. "Don't do it," he said honestly. "It'll be more heartache than you can stand when he's gone."

Dally blew a smoke ring. "Well, you came back, didn't ya?" he said finally. "I ain't worried." He peeked at Tim from under his lashes - a decidedly girly act that made Tim laugh. "I don't got nothing to worry about do I?"

Tim rubbed his fingers through Dally's hair. "Hmm."

Dally sighed, then shook himself. "You ready for round two?" he said abruptly.

Tim smiled faintly. "Dallas, you know...I..." He gripped Dally's arm a little too tightly.

Dally blew his last drag at Tim impatiently. "I know you can't let me go. I know that you know that I can't let _you_ go. That's enough for me to know." He put out his smoke on the windowsill and Tim bit back a scolding. "So...you ready for round two?"

Tim looked at him, those clear blue eyes so matter-of-fact. 8:12.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm ready."

The End.


End file.
